


Butter

by orphan_account



Series: Minifics [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Butter, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Sex, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Clint get busy on the breakfast table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butter

**Author's Note:**

> This is for anonymous, who requested "tony/clint, on the kitchen table? :3" on Tumblr.
> 
> Beta edited by [Dunicha](http://dunicha.tumblr.com)
> 
> More fic notes, fic requests and general Avengery junk (and a good way to contact me if you want!) at my [Tumblr](http://adamantsteve.tumblr.com/).

It had started as most things did between them: as a series of stupid dares that quickly got out of hand. The first time they'd kissed had been a dare, after all. Clint not one to turn down any kind of challenge and Tony not one to ever miss out on escalating things, they were the worst kind of daredevils with both of them encouraging each other in the worst ways. 

 

They'd done it on the roof, but that was small potatoes really. The limo was no big deal. Up against the windows of every place Tony owned was vanilla. Tony's office desk had been pushing it, as had the supply closet (or whatever that tiny room had been) on the Helicarrier. But so far, no one had ever walked in on them, and that was the game after all, so technically, they'd won. Or something. But they still kept playing it.

 

They were eating breakfast when the thought came to them, shared by osmosis when their eyes met. Once Steve left and they were alone, Tony pulled Clint towards him with a hand fisted into his shirt and kissed him roughly, a kiss which only meant filthy sex was imminent. 

 

Clint smirked into the kiss and easily leaned over the table, pushing cups and bowls out of the way, and Tony slid the ironic Captain America pants he liked to sleep in down, slapping his ass twice just for good measure. They'd only had sex a few hours earlier and Tony slid a couple of fingers in easily, reaching past Clint to swipe a knob of butter onto his fingers to slick him up with. "You nasty bastard," Clint laughed, cut off by the moan that escaped him as Tony pushed his oily fingers back in and crooked them, efficiently slicking him up like this was serious business. 

 

Next thing Clint knew, Tony was inside him again and fucking him into the breakfast table that half the team had been at not ten minutes before. If anyone was going to catch them it would be now. Every fibre of Clint's being was attuned to the entrance ways, his hearing such as it was strained to hear anyone coming. He didn't know if Tony was as alert as he was though he suspected not, not the way he was slamming into him. The sighs being pushed out of his lungs were forced back and became moans instead, the same for Tony. Cups rattled against plates and cutlery shimmied with the motion of the table. 

 

Past the breakfast debris, Clint's vision focussed on something at the far end of the table. With a rush of terror-slash-arousal, he realised what it was but before he could convey it to Tony, the elevator dinged. Tony pulled out and was sitting on a chair with his erection neatly tucked back in his pants and under the table, and Clint was pulling his own pants up when Steve came back in, tapping a pencil on his lips and looking quizzical. "Oh there it is," he muttered, scooping up the sketchbook and turning back to the elevator. Clint picked at a cold slice of toast in silence and tried badly to act natural.

 

He began to let out the breath he'd been holding since noticing the sketchbook but then Steve turned again to look at them. "Are you alright, Clint?" He leaned in and Clint found his eyes drawn to the finger-dented butter. He swallowed loudly. "Sure, great Cap!" 

 

"You look a little flushed." He turned his head and studied Tony. "You too. Maybe you're coming down with something." 

 

"Maybe," Tony said sheepishly. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I do feel a little peaky." 

 

"Maybe you should go to the doctor," Steve said with a trace of Captain America command. 

Clint and Tony nodded rapidly and Steve held up the sketchbook, stepping back into the elevator and looking at them inscrutably until the doors closed.

 

Clint let out his breath and felt like a balloon deflating. "He definitely knew." 

"Definitely knew," echoed Tony. They both sat and looked into the middle distance, mortified.

"I'm gonna go wash the butter out of my ass."

"Okay. I'll see you there in a minute."


End file.
